Marching Orders

Participants:

grim_icon.gif len_icon.gif

Scene Title Marching Orders
Synopsis Grim meets Len at one of his hangouts — Len gives him an assignment.
Date May 14, 2009

Wild West Saloon


Sometimes you have to do a little searching in order to find the right place to hang out when you're off duty. Len has apparently scoured the city in search of the dirtiest, most run down, most low-rent bar in the city. He finds himself at a place called the Wild West Saloon. Not the most original name for a place like this, but certain would not be accused of false advertising — well, if you take out the fact that they are not in the west, nor once once you get inside does it look in the least bit wild. But, a saloon, it is.

He has himself a beer with plenty of foam inside this giant mug as he sits at the bar. He has received a text from Agent Grimalkin, which he will in no way attempt to pronounce, about needing a meeting. Len texted his currrent location and waits for him to arrive. There is some country music playing in the background — the old school stuff — Freddy Fender and Charlie Pride, and of course Len hums along.

After receiving the return text and being more than a little surprised at the answer that he receives, Grim made his way over to the 'saloon', pulling up out in front and throwing his leg over his Harley Night-Rod. Heavy steel-toed boots pad over the concrete sidewalk before he pushes his way on in and removes his sunglasses. Yes. Even apparently having been wearing them at night. He sticks out like a rather sore thumb as he strides in stands beside for the door for a moment, surveying the place out of habit before he spots the man he is looking for and begins making his way over, straightening his tie as he does so. "Mister Denton, I presume?" he asks.

"You presume correctly, Agent Grim." Nicknames are so cute. "I'd have asked you to the office, but well, I'm quite comfortable where I am at the moment." He's still staring ahead. He finally swivels the barstool towards the other man. "Agent Len Denton. Mister Denton is my father — well, he's actually a Master Sergeant, but we'll let that pass for now. He extends his hand for a handshake. He's still nursing his first beer, so barely even getting that nice buzz.

"I'm actually glad you came by as I have something for you. Let's walk." The problem here is that he doesn't have that nifty gift that Elisabeth Harrison has of keeping busybodies out of his business. He picks up his beer and moves over to a booth and slides in. "Did you have something for me, Agent Grim?"

Shaking the hand that is offered to him, Grim nods, the only thing about his expression that changes being his eyebrows really as they raise a millimeter. "I see. Well I'll go for Agent Denton or sir for now then." he says. He manages to get his hand around a large scotch on the rocks before he turns and follows the other man over to the booth, settling himself in on the opposite bench. "We just walked out the back door for a smoke as far as the staff and patrons know. We can talk freely." he announces briefly before slowly shaking his head. "Just trying to get some marching orders. I'm okay with carrying on my own investigations but I like to look in from time to time and make sure I'm on the right side of the cheese wheel."

Denton takes another drink from his beer before pulling out his Blackberry and punching in a few keys. He securely transmits some data over to Agent Grim's PDA. "Well, I may need you to refocus for a bit. We have a couple of escaped evolved - dangerous ones. File is being sent to your com."

When Agent Grim looks at his PDA he'll see the files of Niles Wight and Edward Ray. "Everything you need to know is there - I just need you to be aware that we need to get them both back into custody. This is important to me, so I hope I can count on our full support." There is probably additional information that should be passed, but at the moment — it's not necessary for this assignment. And the fewer the people who know about these extinuating circumstances, the better.

Grim blinks for a moment, listening to the explanation in full before reaching into his coat pocket and removing his Nokia from his inside coat pocket. He glances over the information before giving a nod. "Wight… Wight…" He frowns for a moment, his eyes shifting back and forth for a moment. "I remember his file vaguely. Ray I've never heard of." He clicks his phone closed and puts it away. "I will track them done for you, sir. What if I am unable to bring them in?" he asks, politely wondering if a kill issue will be issued.

The answer given to the agent is simple. "They haven't done anything wrong." The cowboy pauses before continuing. "Yet. I just want them back into custody."

Len takes another drink from his mug. "You know how these things work. The higher the tier the more time we spend to make sure they are emotionally and mentally stable enough to handle such abilities. No sense in putting someone on the horse when they can't ride, you know?"

"So am I going to be asking them to come back to us nicely and bagging them should they not see reason, or will it simply be a black van operation?" Grim looks across the table, taking a drink from the glass and allowing the rather poor scotch to burn its way down his throat. "Do you want me to take my partner along or are you thinking that more than one of us could spook these two?"

You say, "I have temporarily assigned your partner to a different case. So this one will be just you. And no, I don't expect you to bag them both in one shot. Do what you see fit in order to get these two back. I have every reason to believe if they aren't now — they will soon be very dangerous." Len's boot can be heard tapping away to some George Strait coming across the system.

"We have more work for us and are being stretched pretty thin. But I think it's something she can handle.""

Looking a little more pointedly across the table at his new boss, Grim's jaw shifts a little, his hand on the table turning his glass around in the small pool of condensation on the table. "Must have slipped her mind to tell me she was reassigned." he says, giving a light shrug of his rather heavy shoulders. He nods though finally. "I'll make sure to get this done as quickly and quietly as possible."

Len shakes his head. "She's not going to tell you. It's a high priority assignment. You're not to ask her about it." He arches a brow as he looks across the table at the agent. "I only mentioned it so that you would be aware she has a case. Clear?"

"With all due respect, sir, I was given a partner so that I would have someone at my back and she would have someone at hers. Not saying that either of us are not capable of carrying out assignments or orders, I just think it odd to be split up so." Grim says, his expression still null though his tone carries just enough agitation to make it known. "Otherwise, we are clear, sir."

A grin crosses Len's face. "Oh, she'll have someone if she needs it. Because of the nature of her assignment — and the nature of where you are, it would compromise her investigation for you to know about it." He leans back an finishes off his beer. "However, if you think you will need some assistance, you let me know. I'll make sure you get someone to cover you. As you can see, I don't play by the typical rules around here. There are circumstances that require me to think outside the box in current times."

"Little strange, that outside-the-box thinking." Grim notes, taking another long pull of his scotch and then sets it back down on the table, shifting it aside a little dismissively. "If there is nothing further, sir, I have some research to do before I head out. I can have us get back from our smokes and momentarily pause in front of the booth here if you would like." he offers.

Raising his glass to the bartender who begins to fill another. "Nope. You just head on out of here. I'm having myself one more and going to go see if they have any Johnny Cash on that there jukebox." Len grins. "If you need anything, you know where to find me. Most days anyway. Take care, Agent Grim."

Giving the other man a slow nod, Grim stands up from the booth, placing a few dollars on the table. "I'll be sure to put you on my speed dial, sir. Just in case I figure on needing some of that classic backup. Nice meeting you. Hope to see you again. And again." Should he live. He gives the first hint on a smile, the corners of his mouth drawing up a bit before turning to leave. He heads out the door, replacing his sunglasses over his eyes and swinging his leg over his bike.


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